The Lords of Bristol: The Duelist
by oqidaun
Summary: At the corner of Bristol's King and Queen Charlotte Streets in January 1698 a young Hector Barbossa donned his "dueling hat" and set out to defend his sister's honor. Part of a series of back stories featuring Barbossa, Teague, Pintel, et al.


**THE DUELIST**

**KING STREET, BRISTOL**

**JANUARY 1698**

The urchin in the dirty white shirt struggled to keep up with the older boy's longer stride. Paul Pintoller's short legs usually moved faster, but the enormous cream tart he was wolfing down compromised his pace. Although the tart slowed him down, it did not render him silent and between mouthfuls he assaulted the older boy with a barrage of questions.

"Hector! Hector, why are you walking so fast?" He gulped down another bite. "You seem angry. Are you angry, Hector?"

The tall red headed boy just stomped along ahead of his grubby little shadow. He slowed down a few feet from the door of the Llandoger Trow at the corner of Queen Charlotte and King Streets. He waited for the smaller boy to catch up before walking into the empty public house and storming over to an equally tall and lanky boy drying glasses at the bar.

"Good God almighty!" Seamus exclaimed when the pair appeared. "Did Paul get in a fight with a baker?"

Hector turned and looked at the younger boy he'd bought the tart for earlier. His look of horror matched that of the other boy. "Paul, I can't take you anywhere. You're supposed to eat it, not wear it."

With an offended scowl, Paul dutifully used his long shirttail to wipe his face and hands. "Well, it was a mighty good tart. Ain't never had one like that."

"Don't mean you have to wallow in it, mate," Seamus shook his head. "So, what the hell are you two doing out and around?"

"I have news." Hector struck one of his many self-important postures.

"Well, spill it." Seamus demanded.

"Plan to," he looked around the empty room, "but I don't be planning on repeating it a dozen times over—where's Nick and James?"

"Probably off talking about how much they like London." Paul sulked.

Hector frowned. "I know about London. I've been to visit me father's cousins who live there. I know as much about London as James."

"Your cousins live in Aldgate, probably a bit too far on east side for James." Seamus shrugged. "Who gives a damn about those two? Come out with it, Hector, why'd you come stomping in here?"

Hector cleared his throat. "I have decided I must challenge Gaspar Villanueva to a duel."

"A duel?" Seamus was genuinely surprised. "Ain't that the fellow who works in ye father's shop?"

"Aye," Hector's posturing grew even more Shakespearean, "Villanueva, the foul Spaniard who like a wolf in sheep's clothing has ingratiated himself with my family only to take advantage of our generosity."

"Foul Spaniard? I thought he was Portuguese. He speaks Portuguese."

"He's Spanish and besides it's an easy enough language to learn." Hector said defensively.

"I can't make heads nor tails of it, me self." Paul shook his oversized head.

"And why are you going to challenge this foul Spaniard who's probably fifteen years your senior and outweighs you by at least a hundred pounds?"

"Age and size have no bearing when it comes to skill," Hector shot back. "As you'll recall my father had the celebrated Dutch fencing master Manuel Pimentel here to oversee my personal instruction last August and September. According to Master Pimentel, I am very talented."

"How could we forget, Hector," Paul groaned, "you ain't never stopped reminding us."

"Talent or no, pray tell why are you challenging one of your father's clerks to a duel?"

Hector put his hand on his hip. "As the only son and me father's heir, it is my duty to defend my sister's honor."

The two other boys traded incredulous looks and exploded into laughter.

"Your sister? Amelia? Hell, she's pretty damn capable of defending her own honor, I'm sure." Seamus wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. "I ain't never seen a girl fence like her—shite, ain't never seen a man work a blade like her either."

Hector sighed over dramatically. "And that's only because she also took lessons from the esteemed Manuel Pimentel—"

Seamus rolled his eyes and groaned at the thousandth mention of the fencing master's name.

"Why do she need her honor defended?" Paul interrupted. "Ain't no man brave enough to challenge it."

"My thoughts exactly, until I discovered that the foul Spaniard basking in me father's good graces intends upon," he paused and lowered his voice, "…_seducing_ her."

Once more the two other boys burst into uncontrolled laughter. Their howling fit attracted the attention of Seamus's mother who was also the younger sister of Hector's mother. "Boys!" she threatened in her screeching brogue, "I'll not have you standing around cackling like a mess of fishwives in here. Hector, ye mum would be horrified to hear ye carryin' on like that." She then spied Paul's dirty face and sticky hands. "Mary, Holy Mother of our sweet Lord, ye look like a foundling plucked right out of the Dublin gutter. Get ye self over here and let me wash that face! My God!"

A look of abject horror crossed Paul's tart covered face before he dutifully complied with the angry woman's command. The two older boys watched their friend march away to his fateful meeting with a washcloth.

Seamus composed himself and returned to drying the glasses. "Seduce ye sister," he lowered his voice, "how do you reckon that?"

Hector had a comparable fear of his aunt and abandoned his indignant dramatics. "He's been circling around her like one of Mrs. Beamister's dogs. It be right unsettling and worst of all, he invited himself to dinner last Friday. Can you believe that? Such gall!"

"Invited himself? No one willfully subjects themselves to ye Aunt Tziporah's Friday cooking. Your mum complains about it all the time to me mum. Most likely, he was invited by your father."

"And why would he do that?"

"Because most of the fellows in your father's shop get invited?"

"They're different—the Carvajals and Mendes families are related more or less to me father's family. Gaspar is a sneaky Spaniard and I know he's after me sister's virtue, which makes me bound to defend her honor." The octave of Hector's voice rose proportionately with his indignation. "Hardly a matter to take lightly."

"What'd I miss?" Paul materialized at Hector's elbow with a clean face, his shirt tucked in and wearing a red vest.

Seamus did a double take. "That's a smart waistcoat, Paul."

"Thank you, Seamus."

"Quite distinguished, really." Hector added.

"I believe it does make me look a little bit more distinguished than usual." He smiled proudly. "And…so, what'd I miss?"

"Hector's going to challenge Gaspar to a duel because he showed up at dinner."

"Ain't very hospitable, Hector." Paul shook his head.

"Seamus failed to explain that the Spaniard's been ogling me sister for weeks now, probably longer."

"My God!" Paul gasped and turned red. "That truly is terrible! Yuck!" He made a disgusted face before adding, "What's oglin'?"

"Looking at her." Seamus supplied.

"_Staring_ at her with lecherous intentions." Hector corrected.

Paul expression was less disgusted and more confused.

"So," Seamus walked around in front of the bar and tossed the towel over his shoulder, "what's ye plan? How're going to go about this? March right over to your father's shop and call him out into the street? Or send Paul over to slap him in the face with a gauntlet?"

"I'll help, Hector! Hector, I can help you out with this!" Paul beamed and bounced up and down excitedly. "You'll tell me what a gauntlet is and where I can get one, right?"

Hector seemed to weigh his options for a moment. "I appreciate the depth of your loyalty, Paul." He nodded. "However, first things first, I need a more suitable hat."

"Step one to defendin' ye sister's virtue involves buying a new hat?" Seamus was dumbfounded by the logic or lack thereof.

"What's wrong with your normal hat?" Paul looked up admiringly at Hector's black felt tricorne with the bold silver pin.

"Nothing, aside from the fact it's not an appropriate hat for dueling."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "And what, dare I ask, does one wear on one's head whilst dueling?"

Hector smiled smugly and gestured with his hands. "I need a hat with a broad brim like in me grandfather's portrait, but with a lower crown than what me father wears." He grew more animated. "And I think I'd like at least two ostrich plumes just like the Dutch paintings…"

"Hell and misery, you've already ordered the bloody thing haven't you?" Seamus groaned in exasperation.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hector feigned insult and turned on his heel. "I'm going to walk over to Castle Street and have a look around. Are you coming along?" He asked Seamus since Paul was already half way to the door.

Seamus wanted to go, but knew his mother would not allow it since his father was out for the day and his math tutor was coming that afternoon. "I'll keep an eye out for the Spanish Armada from here." He frowned.

In the absence of his cousin and his doting lackey, Seamus busied himself with putting the tankards and glasses he'd been drying back on the rack behind the bar. A few sailors came in around ten and Seamus was able to hear their stories while they drank their ale. An hour later, when the two barmaids and the other barman arrived, he happily exercised his authority as the proprietor's son and delegated the rest of his tasks to the paid help, so that he could go and sit near the old men swapping tales.

Two other adolescent boys, James Darling and Edward Nicholas Teague, wandered in at half past noon and Seamus was happy to see the pair. Teague had grown much taller that fall and the brooding boy's voice had deepened considerably. James had been trying to catch up, but still seemed quite childish. Seamus did not begrudge their friendship and acknowledged that the two other boys had more in common with each other than the rest of the group. Naturally, it bothered Hector since he was used to being the center of attention; however, Seamus welcomed it since he still did not know how to talk to Teague since his family had died in a fire the previous spring.

Seamus also had difficulties making small talk with James. The two boys had come to blows a few times in Hector's absence due a smoldering grudge James harbored. Apparently, James had tried to secure an apprenticeship with Captain Woodes Rogers, but the famous privateer had turned him down and told him he did not have a strong enough education to be considered, unlike Hector. James had not only been embarrassed by Rogers' dismissal, but insulted that his rival had set the standard.

The Darlings were quite well to do and James's father was the harbormaster and a member of Bristol's Society of Merchant Venturers. James had received a very sound classical education and his parents expected him to go Oxford. Like most of the other boys his age, James was attracted to the sea and the wealth it promised. He did not share his parents' vision of a respectable ascent up the social ladder.

By virtue of his family's lineage, Hector had far fewer opportunities related to ascending the British social ladder. However, Hector's father expected him to conform to his own family's expectations and be the seventh generation of Barbossas to derive their fortune from the navigational arts. So, while James could recite Latin poetry and knew a great deal about history and literature, Hector already could read charts in a half dozen languages and his practical arithmetic was flawless. He also had his sea legs—he'd sailed dozens of times with captains who had sailed with his father and had been as far as Cape Verde by his fourteenth birthday. Considering the established skills and family connections of the son of the well-known cartographer, Rogers' choice seemed even more obvious. Nonetheless, James took it personally and his jealousy festered into thinly veiled hostility. Of course, James was not brave enough to challenge Hector openly—the older boy was a formidable adversary in a fight—instead, James voiced his snide comments whenever Hector was elsewhere. James had failed to properly gauge Seamus's loyalties and his comments had ended with punches thrown. While Seamus admitted to being a little envious of his cousin's prospects as well, he had the comfort of knowing that Hector's success translated to his own—he was, after all, not just family, but his oldest friend. In fact, Seamus imagined that scrawny little Paul would even end up on his crew.

"Gentlemen!" Seamus called out to the other boys. "Where ye been?"

"Hey Seamus! I started over here earlier, but James said you were probably at the Key with Hector and Paul." Teague started to explain.

James quickly interrupted. "One of the ships from Africa just docked at the Key and we went to watch it unload." He sat down at one of the tables and removed a coin from his pocket. "Fetch us a drink will you?"

Seamus did not move, but felt his face grow hot.

"That's why we figured that the rest of you would be down there. Haven't seen one that big at the Key." Teague continued evenly, but pushed James' coin back at him. "Suppose it's a hint of things to come."

James put his coin away without argument. After the fire, one of Teague's father's friends who had made his fortune as a colonial entrepreneur began sending small sums of money to him. When James' father found out about Mr. Penn, he contacted the Quaker benefactor and arranged for the orphaned boy to move into their home. Teague did so in hopes that Mr. Darling would help him find a ship's captain willing to take him on.

"My father calls it 'black gold'." James drummed his hands on the table. "There are fortunes to be made in the years to come. The African harvest will create many rich men. Damn, we're living in a wondrous new age."

Teague started to speak, but held his tongue. Seamus gathered that the somber pock marked boy disagreed with James' simple assessment. "Any idea as to the whereabouts of Hector and Paul?"

Seamus sat down and relished the opportunity to be the storyteller. "Hector's decided to challenge a Spaniard to a duel."

"What on earth for?" Teague shook his head.

"Does it matter? Hector will swab the street in his blood and probably get a statue erected in his honor for it." James said sourly. "Don't mind me if I'm not excited. I'm saving my trumpet for the day he walks on water."

"Don't be an ass, James." Teague did not share James opinion of Hector either. "So, what did the offending Spaniard do?"

Seamus glared at the harbormaster's son. "Apparently, he's been making eyes at Amelia."

"Really?" James snapped out of his sulking and laughed genuinely. "I know she's your cousin, but Seamus that girl could best Hector in a dirty fight."

"No lie. She's kicked my ass more than once," Seamus agreed.

Teague remained suspicious. "And this Spaniard who has been disrespectful to her isn't carrying his testicles around in a glass jar as a warning to us all?" Teague whistled. "Must be a real piece of work, if Hector's having to step into defend his sister. Or," he paused, "his sister doesn't mind the attention."

"Poor Spaniard either way." James shrugged.

"And that's where Hector and Paul went? Delivering a challenge to a hapless suitor?"

"I don't know what to think," Seamus folded his arms. "I don't think he's quite worked it all out, but him and Paul went over to Castle Street to purchase a dueling hat."

"Seriously?" James rolled his eyes. "A dueling hat?"

"I'd wager coin that it involves ostrich feathers." Teague smirked.

"Safe bet." Seamus nodded.

.

_Two weeks later…_

The grey sky and cold wind made it a particularly miserable day to be outside, but Seamus's mother kicked them out of the tavern to get some fresh air. Teague was reading a book written by Captain William Dampier that Hector loaned him. The descriptions of the wildlife and warm winds offered some consolation.

"That's a hell of a hat, Hector, makes you look older." Teague nodded appreciatively as he put the book aside to watch his friend parry an imaginary opponent in the vacant lot across from the chart shop.

"I must agree me self." He beamed before delivering the _coup de grace_ to his invisible opponent. "Furthermore, it'll keep the sun off me nose this summer in the West Indies. Captain Rogers says me only fault is that I'm so damn fair skinned." He studied the back of his hand. "I never thought that I was 'til he said that."

"So you're really going?" Teague was interested. "This summer?"

"Aye, me father finally agreed to it. It doesn't hurt that he's also invested a little in the venture and wants a good return. He likes Rogers quite well, but I really missed out not getting to go with Captain Dampier all because me father had a bad feeling about the crew." He stabbed at the ground with the blade. "Of course, they tried to mutiny and the ship sank, but it'd been a hell of ride."

"I though Rogers was your favorite?"

"Captain Rogers is brilliant, but Dampier's more of an explorer." He pointed at the book in Teague's hands. "Hell, he's writing important books and the Royal Society cares more about what he says than where he came from or who is family was. They respect what he's done and seen and it's inspiring. Think about it, Nick, his books are on the shelves in important places and he didn't go to Oxford or Cambridge."

"Do you have aspirations to attend Oxford or Cambridge, Hector?" Teague was surprised. "You're certainly smart enough to be a don."

Hector laughed as he shook his head. "You've got a far better chance than me, Nick. They'd admit the Quakers and the Catholics before they'd consider looking at the applications from my lot." He looked up to see James crossing the street and changed the subject. "Speaking of Dampier, me father is working on a new copy of Tasman's charts for him and adding in some notes from few lessor known ones we have in our library. I put the latitudes on it yesterday."

"Impressive," Teague nodded, "I can't draw a straight line to save me life."

"If it's any consolation, they're not really straight." He balanced the rapier's hilt at the end of his fingers and watched the other boys approach.

"So, you're really going to challenge the Spaniard." James announced with a smirk.

"Challenge? James, this be a matter of honor not debased Saxon brutality." Gallantly, he sheathed the rapier and adjusted his hat.

"Does she know this?" Paul watched as Hector's sister emerged from the side door of the shop with Gaspar Villanueva. She was standing quite close to him and smiling. The Spaniard bowed as took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Hector swore angrily in Portuguese and rushed across the street to confront his sister's potential assailant.

"Oh shit! Hector don't—" Seamus realized what was going on and his efforts to stop his cousin were too late. The other boys held their breath as they watched the bold red head march up to his sister and accuse the Spaniard of threatening her virtue. There was a loud heated exchange that drew more than few curious glances from the busy street.

And then, Amelia Barbossa knocked her little brother out cold for insulting her fiancé. The heated Portuguese conversation became one-sided as she put her foot squarely on his chest and continued to yell at him. Finally, she stepped over her younger sibling and stormed off down the street. Gaspar started to help Hector up, but Amelia's angry glare quelled his efforts and he followed her reluctantly.

The other boys' mute horror was interrupted only after Amelia rounded the corner. James began to laugh so hysterically that he fell off the stack of lumber. Seamus, Paul and Teague rushed over to their friend. Hector looked horrible. It took Teague and Seamus to get him to his feet. Paul carried his hat.

Fortunately, the door to side entrance that Amelia had just exited had not locked behind her. Hector's father would have had a fit had he been brought through the shop. However, Hector's father would have been an easier option to deal with had the boys given it some thought. Seamus had never been quite as terrified of his aunt as he was when they got Hector up the stairs to the family's apartment that occupied the two stories above the shop. Apparently, when Amelia knocked him out he had hit his head on the stone steps hard enough to give him a concussion and it was too punch drunk to stand on his own. He nose was also quite broken, more so after Seamus and Teague dropped him at the top of the narrow stairs.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Hector's mother roared as she emerged from the dining room. She made Seamus' own mother seem meek by comparison.

Paul stumbled into her trap first. "It's Hector, Mrs. Kathryn. Can't you tell?"

"Sit down and wipe that simpering smile off ye face, Paul Pintoller. I've fed you enough that I can beat you like one of me own, if I gets a mind for it." She turned her attention to the sorry state of her son's face, but continued to yell at the other boys. "Edward Nicholas Teague, I figured you was the smartest one of this lot and yet here you are with the other fools."

Hector's elderly Aunt Tziporah had rushed into the room with the maid and together they added a chorus of hysterical Portuguese to Mrs. Kathryn's Irish tirade. Seamus thought about making a break for the door, but sat down on the sofa in defeat between Paul and Teague when his own mother stormed across the threshold. She looked ready to murder every person in the room under the age of fifteen.

"Blimey!" She leaned over Hector for a moment then turned on the other boys. "Seamus I'm going to skin you for getting in this mess." Seamus's mother did a quick head count.

"Who the hell did you pick a fight with who could do this to you?" Hector's mother focused her fury on her own son, which was oddly counterbalanced by the fussing in Portuguese from Aunt Tziporah.

Hector opened his eyes, his head still swimming. "Amelia," his voice was weak, which only upset the elderly aunt more.

"Emilio? Who the bloody hell is Emilio?" His mother demanded angrily.

"He said Amelia, Mrs. Kathryn." Paul quickly returned his gaze to his feet.

"Your own sister?" Hector's mother's tone had not softened. "For the love of me soul, what the hell did you say to her?"

Hector was trying to scoot closer to his sympathetic aunt.

Mrs. Kathryn's eyes narrowed and spun around about the same time Seamus's mother hauled him off the couch.

"What did he say?" The two sisters screeched in unison.

Horrified by the thought that his mother and aunt could actually be some sort of mythical two-headed beast, Seamus made a squeaking noise. He swallowed and broke into a cold sweat under the angry glare of the two women. When he finally mustered the courage to respond, he realized he'd forgotten how to speak.

"Ma'am, I believe that there is a rather humorous explanation rooted in a misunderstanding at the heart of this unexpected altercation."

"Pardon me, Master Teague, I hadn't noticed you went off to read the bloody law. This ain't the Crown's court, spit it out," Mrs. Kathryn snapped. "Now!"

He took a deep breath and the words came out in a rush. "Hector was apparently under the impression that his sister's virtue was being threatened and decided to challenge Gaspar to a duel to defend her honor."

The laughter of the two-headed hydra was hard to endure, but when Aunt Tziporah joined in, it became much worse.


End file.
